


Along Came a Spider

by breauna_laverne



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Murder Husbands, Murder Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breauna_laverne/pseuds/breauna_laverne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Hannibal Lecter wants Alana Bloom. And the closer he gets to her, the closer he lures the ever so delectable Will Graham. But with Will unraveling, and Jack getting closer to his secret, will he be able to seduce her before his web falls apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon a Dream

Her scent was delicate, flowing around her, and yet not overpowering or overwhelming the nose. Like a gentle wine, is was smooth, caressing

my nose as I slid my hand through the silk curls in her dark hair.

"Alana..." I whispered it close to her ear, trying to wake her as smoothly as possible. She moaned, still asleep, and rolled over halfway, baring

her naked back against my dark maroon sheets, the scratches and handprints from last night still livid across her small frame. "Alana..." louder

this time, yet no avail. I was getting impatient. She needed her rest and yet she needed to obey as well, my little pet does have such a

temper sometimes...Even in nothing but pants, the room is still warm, the air resting comfortably against my skin as I straddle Alana, my slack

clad knees making dark crevices in the bed sheets. Still my pet doesn't stir, her mussed hair spread along my pillow like a pool of the most

beautiful blood, her lips still swollen from last night. Her lips parted as I wrapped my hands around her slim arms, rolling her over to face me,

and still her eyes remained closed, the pale purple of her eyelids almost matching the dark purple bruise stretching across her dainty neck. The

bruise was more arousing than her pert chest or tight ass, in that it marked her as mine. She would be wearing turtlenecks for weeks. The

thought sent blood rushing downwards, heat rushing everywhere and suddenly made these slacks seem much too tight. My hand fit perfectly

over the bruise, my thumb to the side, her neck fitting perfectly under my outstretched hand. Even the light touch sent shivers down my spine,

my hand just resting on the tender skin, the urge to just take her growing in my brain like a weed. Spreading her soft legs and letting her

wake up to my taking her fully , my hand still wrapped around her neck, tightening, until she was gasping for air and begging me...begging for me...until she could no longer speak and both of us were sated and exhausted, until I could...finally take off these damn too-tight pants. She

needed to be awake. Now. Pet does a very good job of stripping me, slowly, until neither of us are sure which one was really stripped by the

encounter. Her color was heightened by the maroon sheets, the purple of her new bruises standing out like an elegant mix of color, each in a

battle of give and take, the pale of her skin a sharp contrast from the warm purple and glorious red marking her naked body. My knees had

removed the last of the sheets covering her naked form, her body lay prone, hands down, sinking beside the weight of my knees, the rest of

her passing beneath me, my hand still gripping her elegant neck, lightly, teasing. "Alana..." My voice was a low growl, surprisingly deep for

such an early morning. I tightened my hand. "Alana." This was a command. Pet needed to wake up and obey, I was feeling feisty, and she

looked delicious. My height tightened more and more until her eyes flew open, her eyes meeting mine in a mix of panic and arousal. My hand

never loosened, though I doubt she was getting much air. The panic faded as I squeezed my knees around her, immobilizing her arms

completely. I leaned down to taste her, drinking in her rich scent, still light, though now tainted with need. Her mouth was light against mine,

her honey meeting my fire with a ferocity that sent blazing shards into my groin. My other hand wrapped around her already mussed hair,

finding a strand and wrapping it around my palm like a spaghetti fork. Using it as leverage, I tilted her head up, moving my lips to taste her

chin and neck, sucking lightly on the spot behind her ear, hearing her breathless cry in response. My hand tightens instinctively at the sound,

completely cutting off her airflow. Letting her hair go, I loom over her, my blue eyes meeting her dark ones, my hand still vice tight around her

neck. There was a slight trace of fear behind those eyes, offset by the trust and submission swirling around her amber irises. They met mine,

further tightening my pants. Her eyes flickered to my crotch for a moment, looking back up at me, her reddening face glinting with a minx allure.

I moved my knees, expecting her to fight my grasp as it slowly brought her closer to unconsciousness. Instead my pet surprised me, reaching

for my crotch with a frightening speed, rubbing me with her slim fingers as she met my eyes, met my fire, met my desire with her own. The

world seemed to heighten with arousal, a cheshire cat of lust sitting on my lungs. She began to unzip the fly of my slacks, her cool hand

reaching down to cup me as I moved my knees, using them as leverage to keep her legs separated. She pulled the rest of them down to hang

above my knees as I cursed my luck at going commando that particular morning. "Alana." It was a growl as she stroked me, her thumb rubbing

across my tip. It was becoming very hard to support myself on the one arm beside her head and not rely on the one obstructing her trachea. I

met her eyes again, dipping my mouth to cover hers. Biting on her full lower lip I lowered my hips to meet her-

A crash that would have blown the richter scale woke me, laying on my back in my maroon sheets, cocooned in a light sheen of sweat and

hard as a pikestaff. Damn. I rolled out of bed, my bare feet meeting the hardwood floor of my home with a light pat, and began to search for

pants, or boxers, or anything at this point. The crash came again, my irritation spiking harder that my cock as I yanked a large pair of pants

over my dream, walking into the ornate hallway, opening curtains as I went. The crash came again, and again. I am going to kill this son of a-.

I reached the door, opening it before the barbarian could crush my antique mahogany door.

The icy air ripped into my bare chest, as I came fury to surprise, face to face with a jaw dropped Jack Crawford.


	2. Wicked Game

"Dr. Lecter, I apologise, I thought you'd be awake?" I counted to ten before responding, the hot column of rage cooling to a dull roar in my

chest.

"Why of course you would have Jack, It is nearly noon. How may I be of service?" it was odd to be overly formal in my pajamas, and yet Jack

seemed enthralled by my lack of cloth, as if shocked to see me so open. Or so he thought. He was still obeying, his apology a clear note of his

subservience.

"It's Will. He's missing. I've called, left messages checked his home, his work...nothing. Did he mention to you that he was going anywhere?"

The deep furrows in his forehead deepened as he spoke, a sign he was genuinely worried, there must be a new body. Well of course there

was. I had finished her off last night.

She had been quite beautiful, for a pig, her dark hair hung in loose ringlets past her shoulder blades, swirling against her back as she fought

against me. Earlier that day she had tapped my car with hers, and, in her hurry left without a word. She never noticed the sleek black of my

car behind hers, my eyes resting on her as she hurried out of her car and into a large dark building. Schillman & Associates, a local real estate

firm dealing in upscale houses, usually with price tags into the millions. Or that was what their website boasted, a large photo of an attractive

man and woman posed semi-sexually in front of a Lexus. She stayed in the buiilding for almost an hour, and came out holding a large file

clutched to her generous breasts, the crisp white edges of her button up unbuttoned to expose the tops of her chest, the tanning bed

enhanced coloring much darker than Alana's. Her hair was the same color, pulled back into a sedate ponytail, her half-hearted attempt at

some form of modesty. Albeit a failed one considering the slight flare at the end of her skirt revealed a quarter moon of equally tanned ass

with each step, and her fuchsia lipstick evoked the violent image of wrapping my hand around the pale neck of a painted harlot. The harsh tap

of her Christian Louis Vuitton heels flashing a dark maroon across my eyes, the tangible effect of a deep hidden irritation. Her car was a horrid

shade of light blue, what I assumed were her initials emblazoned on the back window. KL, whom I later knew as Kanika Boswell, the well-

inherited daughter of the late Clark Boswell, the passing of whom forced our budding out of a defunct modeling career and into the

real estate business. This I found out after buying her four mimosas at a local bar, in which she had made an illicit pass at me, noting the

designer suit I wore and the disdainful way in which I regarded the shrieking morons at the other end of the bar. After a long day of

unsuccessfully selling houses, it was of course necessary for our young, orphaned debutante to find the sleaziest local bar, unbutton the now

uncrisp blouse another button to expose more caramel breast and a racy strip of white lace bra. Letting her mahogany hair down, and re-

applying the fuschia lipstick that so reminded me of the Ripper victims, my little whore skanked her way into the bar, sliding her leg over the

cream seat of a bar stool and sat, face in a full pout until the men noticed and began buying her drink after drink. I waited until the fourth

round of drinks appeared, then worked my way next to her, making a point not to notice her, so that when she did notice the crisp edges of

my designer suit she practically began to drool. Her body angled toward me, her arms pressed closer to her sides to push up her breasts, and

even with a brief glance I could see the widening of her pupils, hear the hitch in her breathing, and see the subtle goosebumps that marked

the tops of her breasts and lean legs. She wouldn't have very rich meat, though the way she treated herself she was practically begging me to

take her organs, to feast upon the fruits of her indiscretions and the entirety of her youthful folly. I discreetly nodded to the bartender,

prodding my pointer finger at the mimosas on the bar menu and pointing my head at our lovely Kanika. A rose blush traveled lightly up her

body as the bartender passed her the expensive drink, nodding at me. The color was pleasing, a discreet example of the color that would flow

freely later tonight. I introduced myself, her eyes lighting up at the mention of my doctorate. After three more mimosas, a couple of pieces of

hair tucked behind the delicate shell of her ear, her hand traveling discreetly up my pant leg and the bartenders reminders frequent reminders

that she was not in a state to drive, we left together, my hand supporting her back, the smell of her intoxication infesting the hair that lay

spread on my shoulder as she leaned up against me. I helped her into a cab outside of the bar, making sure the bartender watched her get in

and drive away before I discreetly followed her. Her house was enormous, spiraling into every aspect of the traditional mansion, the circular

driveway spanning a larger distance than most city blocks. I parked in a spot of shade, the dark paint of my car hiding it entirely. She let me in,

her face brightening at the sight of me, the presence of alcohol hiding from her the fact that she had never told me where she lived. I shut the

door with my foot, pinning her lithe body against the wall and slamming my aching mouth on hers, tasting the alcohol on her breath and

allowing it to infuse my head, one of my hands reaching up to grab a handful of her silk hair at the roots yanking on it to tilt her head upward

as my other hand tore the shirt from her body, forcing itself under the tight wire of her lace bra to grasp her breast firmly in my hand. Her skin

was cool to the touch, and tasted of tanning lotion, her breast full under my palm, her nipple budding against my flesh, a juxtaposition of hard

and soft, the sensation sending blood rushing into my groin. Moaning, she threaded a hand through my hair, yanking on it slightly as I shocked

her by pulling on hers tightly. She loosened against me, whispering the location of her bedroom in my ear. We made our way slowly, knocking

over vases and tables in hurried bouts of lust. Each was increasingly rough, me hand ripping at her hair, shedding her clothes, biting at her full

lips as she struggled to contain her heavy moans as I tore off the scare protection provided by the soaked lace thong that matched the cream

of the bra I had torn off long ago. Thank God she shaves ran through my mind as I wrapped her naked legs around my waist and slammed her

hand-marked ass into a wall, kissing her neck and running my hand against her inner thigh. The bedroom was bubblegum pink and frothy, a

massive canopy bed taking up a decent portion of the room, which was where she led me, the curves of her ass twitching as she walked over

to it, my handprint etched onto each cheek from various moments of bending her over tables as chairs, which only served to get her even

hotter. Even the dumb ones were usually scared by now. We got to the bed and I shoved her onto it and straddled her, taking her slender

neck into my hands and pressing down with all of my weight even as she struggled for breath and gaped at me, wide eyed as a fish, as I took

one hand off to fist it in her hair. Her protests were getting smaller and smaller as her eyes got less and less focused. They finally stopped. I

checked her pulse, nothing. Smiling, I left her there, naked on the bed and walked down to my car for my bag. Almost an hour later I had

harvested enough meat to be satisfied, cleaned every trace of my presence from her house and body, brutalized her and used every available

object to pierce her worthless hise, to mutilate the carcass, the thing, the worthless hide that had once been a worthless whore. This

destruction, this madness, this chaos, it was beautiful, my design. I locked up when I left, taking care to wipe the last of my prints from the

knob. The car ride home was melodious, accompanied by Bizet's Carmen, the Habanera filling my ears and swirling with my thoughts, the rise

and fall enticing a rise and fall in the body and mind, each note a different chord within a different Chakra. Sated, I had fallen into bed naked

after a brief snack and shower.

"Doctor?" Jack looked puzzled, his hands now fisted in his pockets, my bod rocketing back into the present.

"No, sorry, Will mentioned nothing of leaving, though he might have mentioned a trip to , they are friends, he might have imparted

such a tidbit to her." Jack winced, visibly upset that I had no information. He looked as if he had slept in his clothes, rumpled and wrinkled as

they were. Disgraceful. , my lovely flower, probably knew nothing of Will's plan for an unscheduled vacation, which he had imparted to

me during our last visit. A weekend in the country, no Jack Crawford, no Chesapeake Ripper, no sleepless nights or dark creatures flitting on

the sides of his mind. Jack needed him, and I had him. Simple as that. I held all the cards. I always do.

"I'm putting out an APB if he doesn't turn up soon." Jack growled, rubbing at his chin. "In the meantime would it be too much to ask for you

and to take pre-emptive look at the scene?" Images from last night flashed over my eyes, this "crime-scene" as Jack called it. An

accurate term would have been slaughterhouse.

"Of course Jack, why don't you text me the adress, I will get dressed and pick Alana up on the way, I'm sure she'd be willing to take a look." I

would be more than willing to look at her, though being in such close quarters with the lovely Alana would be a struggle, last night had sated

my urge to fuck her senseless. Or so I'd thought


	3. A Drop in the Ocean

She was gardening as I pulled up, her mahogany hair pulled gently into a ponytail, half of her body obscured as she knelt on all fours, yanking

at a particularly large weed. She had headphones in, preventing her from hearing me pull into her driveway. Her house was nice, decently

sized and a warm shade of yellow, though the yard was in a slight state of disarray, the garden left to its own devices as she worked. I

couldn't hear the music as I approached her, though by the way she was bobbing it was some sort of jaunty tune. I stood for a moment,

taking in her dirt covered gloves, lean pale legs that I longed to see wrapped around my waist, the thin cloth of her shorts leaving just enough

to the imagination to be infuriating. Her tee shirt was too large, making her arms seem tiny in comparison and it gaped enough at the bottom

that I could see the slight glint of a belly button ring sitting against her flat stomach. I wonder what else she had pierced... It was in the

middle of that erection producing thought that she noticed me, jumping up, and tossing off her gloves.

"Dr. Lecter, I- um didn't see you there..." She seemed mildly flustered, a nice pink rising into her delicate cheeks. She picked at the hem of her

shirt, pulling it against her body then fluffing it out again, as if she couldn't decide which would be more appropriate. It was like a shot of

whiskey being this close to her, as she had been to my house often enough though I had never been to hers. This shy side of her sent shards

of heat into my groin, reminding me of how she would look on her knees in front of me, begging.

"I am sorry to interrupt your gardening, but it seems that Will is missing. The Chesapeake Ripper has also taken another victim, Jack stopped

by this morning and asked if you and I would take a look at it while he is looking for Will." Her face clenched at the mention of Will, terror

flashing in her eyes at the mention of his disappearance. Heat flashed through my bones at that look, the red slipping back behind my eyes.

No need to worry about Will so much my pet. She nodded slightly at my question, pursing her mouth as she usually did when she was

thinking.

"Yea, I'll help" she sighed, pressing her hands against her spine, the gloves hanging from her left hand. "Just let me go get dressed." She was

unusually quiet, worried about Will.

She led me into the house, holding the mahogany door open for me, though I motioned her in before me. She dropped the gloves on a

cherrywood table in her cream entryway, motioning for me to step into her tidy living room. "I'll just go change, you don't mind waiting in here,

do you?" She smiled slightly at the end, though she still seemed distracted, trailing off at the end of her speech. Yes I mind, I would much

rather watch, or better yet, strip you slowly until...

"No, of course not." I tossed a decent smile at her, attempting to avoid spending overmuch time considering the hot blood pooling in my groin

at the thought of stripping Alana. She lent me one last half smile, then turned and strode up the stairs, twitching that tight little ass of hers

like she was wont to do. I should smack that a few times, teach her not to wave it around like that. I waited until I heard her door open, then

followed her up the stairs. The house was silent as I walked, stepping carefully as to not make the floorboards creak. Her door was halfway

down the hallway, the only door on the left hanging open no more than an inch. I got there in time to watch her pull her shirt over her head,

the thin bones of her spine and ribs evident against the pale skin as she bent over slightly to tug the shirt over her head. She had already

pulled her hair out of the ponytail, letting it flow over her naked shoulders, brush them, touch them like I should be. The black lace strap of her

bra was the only thing to break the pale stripe of creamy flesh, aching to be broken, or at least I was aching to break it. She pulled a white

blouse onto her arms and began buttoning it, leaving the top two buttons unbuttoned, as she turned diagonal to the door. I distinctly

remember telling her she looked lovely in white during our training together, the first day I had her picking a PH.D. candidate, the day the first

one thought we were having an affair, the clear condemnation and jealousy in his eyes as I tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. I

turned as she began to tug her shorts down her legs, clenching my muscles to lessen the raging erection steadily growing beneath my

trousers. I turned, listing off recipe ingredients to calm my raging blood. Liver marinated in a light sauce, cut into thin strips and roasted with

thin cuts of bacon. Making sure not to disrupt the rug lining the hall, I returned to the living room and sat on the couch, pulling down my pant

legs to cover the my dark trouser socks. Linking my hands, I laid them in my lap, artfully covering my slowly draining erection. She came down a

minute later, her jeans fitting around her legs to flare around her calves, the dark color complementing the innocent white of her blouse. Her

hair was down in wavy curls around her ears, only a slight kink form the ponytail band evident in her hair. She had added a little makeup,

mascara lightly on her dark lashes and slight eyeliner smudged on her top lid, playing up the colors in her eyes.

"Sorry it took me so long." She pursed her mouth again, slipping her feet into a pair of black flats and picking up her purse, a medium size

beige bag with a silver emblem on the side.

"It is no problem. " I smiled at her slightly, the body will still be dead when we get there. I opened the door for her, motioning her to my black

town car sitting in the driveway. "Jack sent me the address, it is not far, we should be there within the hour." Making sure she was buckled, I

buckled my own and began to reverse out of her driveway, one hand on the wheel, the other searching for a CD.

"Any suggestions?" She turned to me, as if I had shocked her out of thought.

"I would prefer to just talk, if you don't mind, it has been quite awhile since we just talked." She smiled at me, patting my hand, sending

shards of heat into my lap.

"Why of course, it has been much too long." Mainly because I can't talk to you without thinking about fucking you breathless.

"Have you been seeing anyone ? I mean, you had one or two dates while I was training, but did she work out?" I almost choked, the

memories of those awful forays crawling up throat. She remembered. The girl was awful, whining like a bitch for hours on end about her

pathetic life.

"No, she was not my ...as is said...type" She snorted slightly at that, her hand running up and down her thigh, a nervous tick she has had

since training. "Are you worried about Will, Alana?"

She jumped, her hand stopping its movement and I pulled the car onto the highway.

"Yes, I can't stop wondering where he is. Maybe he got too close to the ripper, like Miriam did."

Oh he is close, but he'll never figure it out. I waited awhile to answer, until I was pulling the car off of the highway and onto the main road.

"I doubt that there is any nefarious motive behind his sudden absence Alana, I doubt you have anything to worry about." Speaking softly as

to not seem pushy, I patted her petite shoulder, regretting the act instantly as it shot bright hot lust down my spine. She spared me a smile

rather than answer as we pulled into the large driveway belonging to . Getting out, I held the door open for Alana, violently

wrenching my eyes away from the discrete cleavage caused by her shirt.

Jack was standing at the door, directing forensic techs every which way. Not that they would find anything. They never did.


	4. Beautiful Mess

The house was as I had left it, a wretched mess of tipped vases and upturned furniture. They'll think it was a robbery. Idiots.

Alana wrapped a hand around my arm as we walked through the carnage, her delicate form folding in on itself more and more as we slunk

deeper into the havoc. She stopped a moment on the stairs, a large breath unfolding itself from her body, wrapping her concerns and disgust

around her frame like a cloak. You will not find it so abhorrent when you praise what I create from her meat. The thought is nearly as erotic as

the hot lust swirling around my abdomen. I love feeding people to people. The idiotic joy and praise as they consume the victims they mourned

earlier. Like sheep, most of them. Violent, cruel, ignorant sheep.

The bedroom is as I left it, a gore filled wreck, as the techs had yet to remove the body. She lay on the bed, still naked, objects sticking out

from everywhichway, spread out, her hands nailed to the mattress. Now that took effort, nailing objects into mattresses is not small feat.

Alana let out a small shudder at my side, inching closer to me. My eyes traveled to the top of her head, a smile bubbling at the edge of my lips,

quenched before reaching the surface. Nothing to fear for you my pet, not yet.

"Any news on Will" Jack sounded tired as he spoke, his hand massaging the bridge of his nose as if it was the source of his worries.

"Nothing." Alana squeezed my arm before walking over to stand by the body, now prodded by the medical examiner.

"Key organs are missing, just like in the ripper cases" Her voice was sharp, matter of fact tinged with worry and sadness. Oh Alana, what a

curse it must be to feel for the pigs. No need to worry my darling, she will taste just as good as the rest, though you never saw their

carcasses, their worthless flesh and useless lives.

"Which organs" I kept my voice neutral, knowing which organs were taken, my mouth watering at the thought of liver braised with a light

butter and cubed over a sweet sauce. Alana looked questioningly at the ME, her hair swinging over her shoulder, a waft of lavender shampoo

spinning its way towards me on the dead silent air.

The ME was rude, as usual, his asian helper an overdressed and observant irritant. This ME is inching himself closer and closer to my gumbo

pot with each case.

"The liver, lungs and tongue were all carefully removed. This the first time the ripper has taken a tongue from a victim, are we sure it's him?

What you've never gotten a new recipe? I do not RIP, I remove, different things you imbecile. Ripper. How I loathe that crass name.

"Who gets a tongue transplant?" Jack was incredulous, his normally deep voice slamming up a few octaves.

"The first successful one was done in 2003, they are usually given to survivors of tongue cancer." Do your research .

"There has to be a small market for those, especially with black market organs. Most of those transplants are highly publicized. We could put

our feelers out, find the recipient of the tongue, find them and we find your ripper." Dammit. This Katz woman is beginning to get on my

nerves.

She set a manicured hand on her hip as her revelation sunk into the room. Jack's excitement was visceral, raw and tangible on the taunt air.

"We're close" Jack smiled for the first time in days as he exited the room. "I'm going to dig into the black market. Alana, Hannibal, let me know

if you have anymore information. And find Will." He shouted the last sentence from the stairwell, his boots slamming into the floorboards of the

eerie house. Well that will keep them occupied for awhile. Idiots.

"Do you see anything Hannibal?" Alana paused over the body as she spoke, her hand fluttering down as if to close the still agony-filled eyes,

now greyed and flat in the all-encompassing clutches of death.

"If it is the Chesapeake ripper, her reverted to his earlier method of impaling his victims. Though with what the media has released, I am

inclined to think it was a copycat. After all, the Ripper has never taken a tongue. Though without Will's corroboration, we can not know for

sure." The idea of a copycat will keep them going for awhile, like hamsters spinning around and around on their tiny little wheels, never

realizing that they are going nowhere. Little vermin.

The crowd seemed to nod, taking my word like medicine. They filed out of the room, the ME last, rolling the cart containing the body, taking

care not to bump it. She is going to be just as dead if you bump her moron. Straightening my tie, I nodded to Alana.

"Anything to add before I call Jack to give him my official profile?" She straightened, her back to me, the curves of her delicious ass staring at

me through her obscenely tight jeans. Damn if I don't want to take that pretty little ass in my hand and give it a good smack, teach her not to

tease me with it. Those pants should be illegal. her every move was a tease, a taunt that send a roaring down my spine to below my

stomach. I want her. But she is not ready, not yet. It is no fun to have her if she does not want me, though I could take her at any moment,

take her life and her body. But that would be no fun. I want to feel her shudder and moan. To watch her come screaming my name, writhing

underneath me. I will have her, but first, she must have me.

"Give your profile and I'll add from there." She had turned around, a slight smile twisting its way onto her face as she spoke.

"I do not think it is the ripper. This is too messy, too visceral. That, and the removal of the tongue lead me to believe we have a sociopathic

copycat. This man is young, late twenties, early thirties, with a menial job, something low-level that affords him the type of treatment to store

up this much rage. His neighbors will not be surprised to find out it is him, as he has a hair-trigger temper though he is socially competent

enough to get a lady to let him into her house. It is also likely he is impotent, which would only add to his rage. He must have, upon reading

about the crimes, have lost his normality and had a break with reality." I finished with a slight sigh, the impressed look on Alana's face sending

a fluff of hot air into my soaring head and a rush of blood to my half-filled erection.

"I-I don't think I can add anything to that." Don't be so astonished Alana. Little Will isn't the only one who can profile. Though he usually

doesn't need to make it up. Her slight stutter only added to my arousal, though I was able to hide it by turning around to call Jack.

He was upset by the development, his fury and confusion only adding to my euphoria. Will is a friend, though after his impromptu make out

session with Alana It was nice to have some time alone with her.

The house was now empty except for Alana and I, and in the silence you could hear the walls screaming with the sounds of death. It was

weighing on her, as the more horrid deaths had a tendency to do. To me the silent screams were beautiful, the twining notes floating taciturn

air like dust motes, their curling screams and cries resonating on silent waves, like the chill on your back when you walk up the stairs in the

dark, or the shudder before full awareness after a nightmare. It hovered on the edge of the conciseness, begging for attention, a wrenching,

carnivorous abyss of voiceless wailing.

My shoes made no sound as I joined Alana by the bed, wrapping an arm around her slight form.

"Join me for dinner?"


	5. Pour Some Sugar on Me

A shaking smile danced across her rose mouth as she wrapped a slender arm around my waist and nodded, a sigh jumping out of her chest as

we walked out of the house to my car.

Dinner was human, of course. I love feeding people to people. And they never know... I had pre-marinated the liver in a light white wine

sauce, and the vinegar and bay leaves had added just a pinch of flavor, as the white wine would cook out, leaving only tender meat to be had.

"What is this called Hannibal?" Alana had been enjoying my people-beer for the last hour as she skinned and sliced potatoes, her delicate

pale fingers skimming the edges with the peeler. She was a tad tipsy, as an unexpected plasma infusion was wont to do to a person. I flashed

her a slight smile, leaning against the countertop as I thinly sliced the marinated liver, my mind wandering back to the rich blonde.

"Icas com Elas, it's portuguese in origin, a rare delicacy." I rested my knife on the counter, sorting the liver into strips to prepare for cooking,

along with the sliced potatoes and basil, for flavor.

"You know what else is rare? You Hannibal, you're very rare, you know that. Attractive, well-off, emotionally stable. If things were different I

woul-" her hiccuping speech cut off abruptly as she stumbled, slicing her thumb along the edge of the peeler, a thin crimson line beading on

the pad of her finger, slowly, mesmerizingly growing. Hot need pooled low in my stomach, a fuzzy type of lighting working its way down my

spine to wrap around my hips. My shoes were the only sound in the room as I strode over to Alana, who was solidly gazing at the few drops

of blood on her finger. Words escaped me as I gently wrapped my hand around her cool wrist, sliding my fingers around hers and lifting her

thumb to my mouth. Her eyes widened as my lips closed around her hand, her pupils dilating rapidly. She tasted of honeysuckle and copper, a

heady combination for my pulsing groin. Rasping my tongue across the pad of her thumb, I kept a steady pressure on the wound as I removed

her shaking hand from my mouth.

"Better?" My voice sounded surprisingly low, predatory even to my own ears. It had stopped bleeding, though Alana was still standing silently

before me, wide eyed, her breath bobbing rapidly in her pale throat.

Her eyes bore into mine, my body tightening at the blatant lust I saw reflected in them.

She moved suddenly, wrapping her injured hand around my waist and the other behind my neck as she -somewhat unsteadily- vaulted up to

wrap her lips around mine. Even her lips taste like honeysuckle. My head spun, confused, as if I were the drunk one. Fire exploded behind my

closed eyes as i wrapped a hand in her hair and explored her warm mouth with my tongue. She moaned slighty as I wrapped a hand around

the lovely posterior she had flaunted earlier, pulling her slight waist flush against my erection, rubbing it lightly on her hip. Using my hand as

leverage I tipped her head back, kissing gently at her jawline until she tugged her lips back to mine, fighting my fire with a roaring blaze of her

own. She moved against me, the hand on my waist lowering to wrap around my ass and tighten, causing my groin to tighten, her breathy

groan an ache-causing response. If you weren't drunk I would take you on this counter until you screamed my name and came so hard you

begged for mercy from the stars.

I didn't realise I had said it aloud until she reached the hand previously on my posterior around to begin unbuttoning my trousers, my apron

already on the floor. Still exploring my mouth with her own, she began rubbing her hand against my five-alarm erection, too intoxicated to fully

unbutton and unzip everything. This needs to stop. No fun in having a drunk woman in bed. She'll just regret it tomorrow... She had slipped

her hand through the zipper, and was using her previously wounded thumb very...skillfully. Kicking myself mentally, I felt a deep groan slide

out of my throat, though her only response was to smile against my mouth. Why did I go commando today, of all days.

The loud buzz of the oven timer cut through the lust charged air, slicing the connection between us. It was as if it suddenly became real, her

cool hand receding, to be hidden behind her heaving chest as we moved apart. I turned to face the oven, my entire body burning hotter that

the wave of delicious smelling air that wafted my way.

"That um smells ...nice" Her voice was soft, deepened by attraction and thinned by embarrassment. Clenching my fists in an attempt to kill the

burning in my groin, I stayed facing the wall as I answered.

"Thank you, it will be ready momentarily." My voice sounded off, even to me as I attempted to calm the urges that made me a very effective

sociopath. Lets blue ball the psychopath, great idea. I could imagine what she looked like, flushed cheeks slightly pink, moist lips still parted to

allow her to catch the breath she was still searching for. Hair mussed, she was probably fiddling, trying to find an appropriate spot for her

hands. If only she would put them back where they belong. The air held the fizzing aroma of embarrassment as I continued baking in complete

silence, aware of that societal niceties demand I offer her a ride home immediately. But I am not done with you yet my pet.

Alana had yet to stop drinking, an obvious attempt to dull her embarrassment. We still hadn't spoken, other than her meager attempt at

conversation almost twenty minutes ago. She hiccuped lightly, her thin hand jumping to cover her swollen lips.

"Sorry." The word was a soft squeak, barely audible. She smelled of fear and longing, the rich crimson scent of lust mingling with the bright

titian of embarrassment, each mingling with the bright white spice of fear and the black of regret. The colors exploded behind my eyes,

mingling with smells and tastes, coppery crimson crushing the sour tang of titian, poisoned by the tang of white and the salt of black. She

noticed my staring and held her breath, locking her wide, slightly frightened eyes with my own. Whatever she saw there made a fire rise in her

cheeks, the creamy sin diffusing the bright pink that crawled up from her neck and forced her to turn away from me.

"Dinner is served."

She nodded, her back still facing me. Without turning, she walked slowly into the dining room, her heels the only noise in the house. I'll strip

you down to nothing but those, watch you dance with that tight little ass of yours... The image of her stripping herself, slowly, torturously

sliding off her jeans. Button by button, until she slid the shirt off her thin arms, revealing the black lace of her bra. if her panties match that

bra, she will not be able to walk tomorrow.

She waited in the dining room, standing with one foot behind the other, eyes darting from chair to chair, as if wondering where to sit. I set her

plate down at one head of the table, holding the chair out until she sat down, her warm back brushing my hands as she descended. Setting

the plate in front of her, I brushed her eyes with my own, passing her a heated glance I knew would stir the blood heating in her veins. My

feet made no noise as I walked to the other end of the table, sitting at the other end of the table, the five feet of table between us charged

with ice and fire. I kept the space, allowing her to choose, to decide about the electric space between us. She looked everywhere but me,

picking at her napkin before picking up her fork.

"This is amazing" She ate with a rapid grace, the sweet smell of enjoyment mingling with the gentle lavender scent of relaxation wafting

across the room, oozing from her still pink skin.

"Thank you, I do so enjoy having people for dinner." My mouth twitched, the bubble of a smile breaking behind my lips, hidden by my wine

glass. Taking a lengthy gulp to hide anymore unwont reactions, I kept my eyes firmly off Alana. My glass was light as I set it down, empty.

When did that happen? I never get tipsy. The thought swam around my fizzling brain, jumping and bubbling into a life of its own. An air of

genuine happiness settled over the sickly sweet pleasantry I usually gave off, inducing the strange urge to giggle.

"Hannibal, did you just snort?" Alana was incredulous, her giggling voice a falsetto with surprise.

"No" My head turned to the side and my shoulders shrugging in innocence, I pondered knocking myself out with a heavy object. Why am I

acting like a child? When did I get sloshed? I suddenly feel the need to put on sweats and adjust my junk in public. Alana laughed like fire,

lightly then all consuming, her chest heaving with the infectious giggles of a drunk. Plasma wine. Never again. In an attempt to restrain

modesty, I dotted at my mouth with a napkin...Alana watching my mouth, hungry. Exhaustion. No driving for us tonight. Bed? Together?

Stumbling up steps, arms around waists, infectious laughter. Bedroom. Dark. Tired. Bodies mingling. Bed.

Black.


	6. Sex on Fire

His voice was a cat, wrapping around my limbs, a throaty purr stroking my ear like burnt silk.

"Good morning, Alana"

Goosebumps running hot and cold on my spine I slowly rolled over, the caress of my naked skin on his sheets an overloading my already

frayed nerves.

"Hannibal"

I began, my voice trembling with bravery, though it came to an abrupt stop as I realised I had no clue how to continue. He smiled as my voice

shook slightly, his eyes tracing the lines of my body against his sheets. Heat cocooned my chest, my nipples evident against the sheet.

Feeling a blush rage on my cheeks, I began to roll back over, my eyes searching the room for my clothes. A warm arm wrapped around my

waist, his heat sinking through the sheet like we were skin to skin. He yanked me flush against him, his erection pressing hard against my

back, voice simmering into my ear

"Not so fast pet."

The nickname sent heat pooling into my abdomen, Hannibal's cock still pressed firmly against my back twitched as my nippled hardened under

his arm, his slight laugh turning into a low growl that sent my brain into a frenzied heat.

"D-did we" My voice cracked like ice under water as I realised the implications of what we might have done, abruptly ending any semblance of

speech.

His arm still warm against my chest, he shifted his weight over me, his lips soft against the shell of my ear.

"No Alana, we did not." Relief pooled cold in my stomach, relaxing the tight hold nerves had caused in my muscles. As I relaxed my body sank

against his, a growling moan slinking into my ears as I realised my ass and back were flush against his very warm and surprisingly large

erection.

"Sorry" Squeaked out of my throat as I jerkily tried to remove myself, only succeeding in rubbing my scantily covered ass against him as the

arm around my chest tightened. He hissed as I slid, his hand sliding to cup my breast through the fabric, my frantic inhalation spurring him

along as he squeezed, heat traveling into my shocked brain, my lungs forgot their function, leaving me gasping as he pulled on my nipple, his

other hand sliding down my body, coming to rest on the curve of my hip.

Lonely, my other breast began to ache, even as the other continued to send electricity pulsing down my abdomen. My eyes fluttered closed,

my hands clutching as the sheet. Dammit, was he going to make me come just by touching me?

"Ha-" My voice broke off in an attempt to tell him we shouldn't do this when he lowered his mouth Oh God that mouth to the sweet spot

between my ear and my neck, an embarrassingly loud moan tearing from my throat in response to the double stimulation. It has been way

too long

His cock twitched in response to my utterance, gloriously hot friction crawling up my spine as he began slowly rubbing against me.

An obnoxious and insistent knocking shocked us out of the embrace. I could feel the color in my cheeks and I wrapped the sheet around my

body, standing to search for my clothes. The knocking continued. I could feel Hannibal behind me, his eyes searing into the naked skin of my

back peeking above the sheet. Air shifted as he moved to stand behind me, and though I knew he was there I still jumped at the electricity of

his touch as he placed a warm palm on my shoulder. He slid his hands down my sides, fingertips brushing my arms as they fought to remain

holding up my- his sheet.

"Hannibal!"

Will's shout broke through the tension, breaking our connection as I fumbled from my clothes and Hannibal began furiously opening drawers,

throwing a large shirt at me as he yanked his lean legs into slacks. This was the first time I had seen rather than felt his body. He held his

muscle well, broad shoulders and a flat stomach lowering into narrow hips and -oh my- his cock, still hard, though shrinking, jerked and began

to grow again under my stare. My lips felt dry, and I heard Hannibals hiss as I licked them. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me against him, his

voice chocolate covered in my ear.

"If you do that one more time, I will take you and fuck you against whatever is near, no matter who is watching, until you come so hard you

forget your own name. Clear?"

Nodding, I fought the intense desire to lick my lips again. He smiled at me, unaware of the near uncontainable urge I felt to drop the sheet,

ignore Will downstairs, and ride him until he shouted my name into the stars. Footsteps on the stairs jolted me into reality as I frantically

picked up the shirt he had thrown and turned to put it on.

I had only just finished the last button when Will came bursting into the room, hair soaked in sweat, clothes haphazard.

"Hannibal I had another nightmare, only this time I was the r-" He stopped when his eyes hit me, half hidden by the bed. "Alana, w-what are

you doing here?" Hurt suffused his voice at my disheveled and much naked appearance.

Hannibal stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Will's shoulder.

"I invited Alana over for dinner last night. We both had too much to drink, so I gave her my bed, and I took the couch so she wouldn't have to

drive home .She had nothing but jeans, so I gave her access to my closet for pajamas, I had just come up to check on her when you burst in."

There was light admonishment in his tone, Will's cheeks flushing pink at the slight diss.

"Come along" he continued, using the hand on Will's shoulder to maneuver him out the door.

The lyrics to "Walk of Shame" burned in the back of my brain as a angry dwarf with an axe threatened to split open my brains. My clothes

nowhere to be found, I settled some of my volatile nerves by fiddling with the buttons of the cotton button up barely covering my naked ass.

Bile swam up my throat, the image of Will's shock branded into the part of my mind that kept me up at night. A car started outside, driving off

with an uncertain speed, as if the driver intended to turn around at any moment.

What a picture I must be, pale and messy-haired, a dark violet button up slipping off my shoulder as I fiddled with the buttons on my lap. Ice

tumbled down my spine, Hannibal's warm touch heating the skin of my back as he scooped up my hair to kiss the top of my spine.

"We're alone" The words sent tingles of liquid pooling between my thighs as his hands roamed my arms, his mouth finding the sensitive patch

of skin where my neck met my shoulder, skilled tongue drawing a loud moan.

This is wrong. The words echoed around, pinching at the overload of pleasure in my brain. I stood up abruptly, blushing at Hannibal's sharp

hiss ass the front of the shirt fell open -an unfortunate consequence of my earlier fidgeting-

"Hannibal I-I should go" This had gone too far, and we had to work together and- My thoughts died abruptly as Hannibal lunged off the bed, a

predatory stare locked on me as he shoved me into the wall on the far side of the bed, one hand drawing my hands behind my head, the

other finding my heat. Holy fucking christ Pleasure exploded as his thumb swirled my clit, bringing me to the point of coming before he

stopped, his eyes piercing into mine.

"Then go" It was a whisper, tickling my ear as he abruptly dropped my hands and stalked out of the room. The wall was cool as I slid down it,

resting against it to recover. Every inch of my body shook, my breasts aching with a need to be touched, my fevered mind screaming at him to

come back and take me. It took every inch of willpower I had attained to stand up, button the shirt around me and walk out the door. My

pants rested on the top step, no trace of my panties. or shirt to be found. Sliding jeans over my still throbbing clit sent me into moans, my

hand finding the banister in an urge to find release from something. Controlling myself, though a flush still burdened my cheeks, I attempted to

make a graceful descent, nearly coming from the sensation. I need bigger jeans

Hannibal was waiting at the front door, face impenetrable, keys in hand.

"Have you seen my -erm- clothes?" The words were awkward, eliciting a blush that skyrocketed into all of my limbs.

Stoic, he lit out an unemotional reply "No, though when I do, I shall have them returned." It was almost cold the way he spoke, his words

slow, turned around in his head before ejection filled them with ice. I ached to touch him, pat his shoulder, kiss his cheek assure him of

something I couldn't quite comprehend.

Silence filled the arctic car as he drove me home, the haunting orchestra playing in the background only exacerbating the uncomfortable quiet.

Forever a gentleman, he opened my door for me, careful to keep from touching me as he shut the door and returned to the drivers seat,

watching me walk up the driveway before rolling back out into traffic.

His shirt looked oddly comfortable sitting on my bed, folded, and even my iron willpower couldn't keep my fingers from stroking the soft

material that smelled of Hannibal's cologne, a musky spice that sent heat into between my legs. Stunned at my visceral reaction, I tossed the

shirt on the bed, slinking my jeans down my legs. Naked in front of the mirror, I assessed the red spots and slight hickeys forming from my

escapade this morning. Hair brushed the sensitive spots on the back of my neck as I shook my head at my own stupidity. Cold tile brushed my

toes as I entered the bathroom, the cold water knob squeakier than normal as I twisted, stepping under the freezing spray, my libido dying

with a sharp cry, though I could still feel him on my skin as I began scrubbing the traces of Hannibal off my skin, the dirt of embarrassment

harder than blood to remove.


	7. Dreaming of You

came awake slowly, awareness sliding around me like water. Scalding water intermixed with

sirens clashing around my budding consciousness, popping the delusional bubbles comforting my aching skull. The thread count of my sheets felt like

sandpaper against my naked skin, the heat from the body next to me scalding. Pain scratched at my corneas as I opened my eyes, the beam from

my ringing phone burning through my eyes like salt. My skin felt tight as I reached to tilt the screen, it was Will, probably calling to announce his

return. Dammit. The bed moved as I rolled back over, almost slamming my head into the dark hair of Alana Bloom. She still smelt like honeysuckle,

the scent lingering on the hair an inch away from my nose. She began to move, the sheet slipping off her naked shoulder, the creamy skin of her

neck and back exposed.

"Good morning Alana" My voice sounded abnormally husky, my nerves jumping at realizing she was naked under the thin sheet, goosebumps dotting

her flesh as she turned to face me, nipples semi hard against the sheet. Pain shot into my already pulsing erection as I grabbed her into me- STOP.

My mind replayed the scene as I attempted to cook a twice ruined batch of tiramisu, peopleless, of course (there really was no good way to

incorporate people into tiramisu anyway.) The hairpin curve of her lips as she said my name, the insanely hot moans she kept trying to squash

tenting my pants painfully against the counter. Fire had threatened to crisp my lungs as she'd left, something I'd assured with m despicable loss of

control, though I could still taste her on my hand after she'd left, her near orgasms at the top of the stairs sending me into spasms, desperate to

come into her. Even as she'd slid her tight ass out of my car it had taken more willpower than even I'd thought I had not to fuck her on the hood of

the car, especially as she'd twitched that form of hers while walking up the driveway I'd longed to follow her inside, watch her dainty blue 

eyes widen with pleasure and trust as she shuddered around me, her hands in my hair, lean legs wrapped around my waist as my hand tantalized

her into letting me wrap it around her graceful neck.

A painful jerk tightened my balls shocked me out of my daydream as I realized I was seconds away from coming all over my now ruined tiramisu.

Heat coursed through my limbs, tightening in my arm as I threw the towel on my shoulder down with a slap into the table. The house creaked as I

slunk upstairs, angrily unbuttoning and unzipping as I went.

The shower was freezing, and only served to slightly lessen the pain in my groin from an erection now going on five hours. Dammit. Ice stormed

behind my eyes as I remembered the lamp I had slammed into , the lamp I had then tossed in the back of the closet and forgotten to

clean. This dark haired minx, was making me sloppy. The lamp stayed frozen in my mind, emptying my cock in seconds, my hands beginning to

tremble as my mind ran through a slew of explanations, trying anything plausible. Cogs whirring, fury building in my chest like a hurricane,

threatening to knock down anything in my path. Tonight.


	8. Mad World

Trembling hands patted down a maroon wrap dress, the same color as his sheets, my own little scarlet A. A slight part of me hoped I'd see

him today, the dress a haunting reminder of our little fling. An even deeper part of me hoped it would light a fire in him as it did me, my body

still begging for his heated touch.

His feet should have made a trail on the floor from the way they'd been tracing it, over and over, back and forth between the same two walls since the dawn had woken him from his haunted sleep, tracing his cheeks like she had in his dreams just moments ago.

Will's office was cold as I approached, the chill littering goosebumps on my skin n, fogging my ever-heated brain. Staring at the door, eyes

squinted in an effort to ascertain if he was there or not, I was filled with shock when I barreled into someone, my purse falling off my arm to

scatter its contents on the floor. -

"Sorry Ma'm" His voice was liquid, drowning me as it flowed around my limbs.

"N-no it was all my fault, really" A blush burned high on my cheeks as he bent down to grasp at the contents of my purse, obscuring my view

of his face with floppy blonde hair, so unlike Hannibal's. My blush grew as I realized I was staring instead of helping as he placed my purse

back on my arm, careful to stroke my hand as he removed his. His eyes met mine, a bright emerald, new moss after a storm, elegant and

wonderful, spinning me around and setting me down before he had even spoken a word.

"I'm Scott, Scott Harvey." His eyes turned up at the Bond joke on his liquid mouth, full lips smiling brightly enough to light up every bit of depth

in those mysterious emeralds, my chest tinkling with a laugh I hadn't heard myself utter in much too long. His hand was outstretched, long

fingers straight, ready to shake my hand.

I took it eagerly, finding his touch cool and electric on my palm.

"Alana Bloom, shaken not stirred" His laugh boomed, sending my heart aflutter with what might have been palpitations.

"Well I feel I have to make my purse knocking up to you, Ms. Bloom. Say, over dinner?" A squadron of stallions stampeded over my palpitating

heart as I decided in an instant, my body riotous in its need for company. -Hannibal would be furious- That decided it. He could be cold and

unwilling as he liked, I was going to go out with a hauntingly beautiful stranger with dimples with like rays of sun when he smiled, and he

would have to like it. -Or fuck me over a desk after spanking me for being naughty...- The thought sent heat down my body, making me

realise I was holding Scott's hand, staring and possibly drooling like a nitwit.

"I'd love to" It came out scratchy, the beginning of an old record in the gloom.

He smiled, whiskey filtering through afternoon sun, it's heat warm low in my stomach.

"Great!" He handed me a card out of his pocket, his lovely fingers brushing mine like a live wire.

"It might sound over eager, but would it be okay to take you out tonight? I know this great place opening up and I'd love to take you"

Tonight fluttered in my veins. a butterfly twitching out of a cocoon.

"Sure!" My voice had regained it's natural tone as I planned an outfit in my head that would knock him as flat as his eyes knocked me.

"My cell's on the card if you'd like to call me later about when and where, since I've monopolized so far?" -Hot... and a gentleman- Embers

burned low in my veins, threatening to start a fire.

"How does eight sound?" I tried my hand at a flirty smile, batting eyelashes I'm now glad I over-smothered in mascara before work today. He

took me hand again, bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss that nearly had me tackling him into the nearest dark corner.

"See you then" His wink carried a soft innuendo, his tone husky and soft as it promised more than he'd meant to. He turned to strut the way

he'd came, giving me a remarkable view of his tight ass.

Clutching my purse under my arm, thoughts clustered in my head as I attempted to recall where I was and what I should be doing.

"Alana!" Will seemed surprised, running a hand through his hair as he stepped out of his classroom, jacket crinkled as if he'd been sleeping in

it. "Who was that leaving?" Heat burned in his voice, his jealousy turning ice in my veins, making me shift uncomfortably, my hands running up

my now chilled arms.

"Scott Harvey. I ran into him, he was helping me pick up my things" Hoping he hadn't heard, I left the date out on my answer, heat kindling

high on my cheeks as the half lie came out high-pitched.

"And asked you out" I twitched as it came out, though I owed no explanation.

"I am allowed to date, Will" The slight admonishment came out harsher that accepted, his wince visible, incurring my desire to hug him, though

I knew it would come off wrong...and possibly turn into another kiss.

"Why of course you are" A hand landed on my shoulder a my body went cold, Hannibal's cold, metallic voice, once so warm in my ear, hardly

contained the blistering rage I could hear under the surface, an erotic fear pooling between my thighs. His hand, frozen on my shoulder,

painfully tight, thumb swirling lightly on my back made me squirm. A bubblegum smile locked on my cheeks, I shifted my feet away from his

touch, feeling his eyes like whiskey, intoxicating. The tension ran red, palpable in the stiff air, none of us willing move, to accept defeat.

At long last Hannibal shifted, smiling at Will and myself before motioning Will back into his classroom.

"I need to speak with you, if you have a moment?" Will shrugged, leading Hannibal into his empty classroom as I fumbled to speak. Finding

nothing, I waited until the door clicked shut before turning to leave, my original purpose lost in a sea of eroticism and excitement. Part of me

wanted Hannibal jealous, the rational, psychiatrist part of my brain screeching at the thought, throwing Freud at me. Either way, my heels

seemed to clack more determinedly on the white tile floor, blood heated in my tingling veins.

Piles covered the floor, colors strewn about as if they were leaves. The room echoed faintly with music, making my actions look cartoonish,

something out of a chick-flick, outfit after outfit thrown haphazardly onto the floor, only to be picked up again when I ran out of options. The

clock read seven thirty by the time I'd chosen. Simple and black, the dress hugged my waist and hips, landing a few inches above my knees.

Strapless, the sweetheart neckline emphasized my collarbones, my hair up in a twist bun thing that even explicit instructions from youtube

couldn't help me get entirely perfect. A few strands framed my face in a way the youtuber had called "utterly sexy." Appraising my appearance

in the mirror, I ran quicks hands over my dress, smoothing it. Slipping into low heels, in case we needed to walk, my heart began to pound,

eyes fixed on the clock. Moving to sit on the bed, I began rubbing the heel of my palm into my leg, the pressure a welcome distraction to slow

my frantic heartbeat.

A knock on the door ruined my work, scattering my heartbeats. Grabbing a silver clutch to match my earrings, I rushed down the stairs, nearly

tripping down the last six. Get a hold of yourself, Alana It had been awhile since my last date, before grad school at least. Taking a breath, I

smoothed my dress again before opening the door.

Scott smiled as he handed me a colorful bouquet, the lilies fragrance pleasant in my nose.

"Ready?"


	9. In the Air Tonight

"You look nice" He smiled, his words warm in my ear.

"Thank you!" Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I motioned him in. "Let me put these in a vase?" He nodded, his eyes locked on mine. My heels clicked on the hardwood as I walked into the kitchen, the heat of his gaze on my back.

Of course I'd put the vases on the top shelf My fingers hardly brushed the edge of the cabinet, my tip toes much too short. A sudden warmth at my back made me gasp, Scott's voice smooth in my ear.

"Let me?"

"S-sure" His body was flush against mine, one of his hands on the counter as he reached up to grab a vase, the light scent of his cologne sending heat into my thighs.

There was a sudden rush of air, the patter of water being turned on, and by the time I'd collected myself the vase was full, flowers inside, sitting on the counter.

"Shall we?" He took my arm in his, leading me to the door, picking up my coat on the way out.

The place was dimly lit, swirling reds and golds framing delicate intricacies framed on the walls. A vallet had parked Scott's Lincoln, eyes widening in awe as he took in the richness of the leather and cold metal. A hostess led us to a table draped in white, Scott pulling out my chair as he ordered wine, a warm hand on my tingling shoulder.

Seductively lit, the creamy lighting bathed Scott's cheekbones, my chest a net of bees as my veins began to buzz. A bottle of wine sat in a silver bucket, condensation from the ice trickling onto the starched cloth covering the round table. Grandeur oozed like sickly silk from every crevice of the restaurant, slimy unease slithering up my spine as my back sat against the cushioned chair. Picking at the nail polish at my hands, trepidation crept into the dark hollows of my brain. Something was not right.

"Alana?"

Scot wrinkled his brows together, hand reaching across the table to rest on mine, warm and rough. "Did I do something to upset you?"

A bonfire blew on my cheeks as ice coated my spine.

"N-no, of course not"

His hand squeezed mine lightly before retreating to his side of the table, toying elegantly with a menu. His eyes flicker like a dying candle, holding mine against a wall, pinning me with the heat of his stare.

Frozen, A bubblegum smile contorts my face, chewing at my cheeks as we stare. Uneasiness, like lake water laps at my brain, murky and cold.

"Can I get ya'll any appetizers?" The waitress is perky, blonde hair twisted up into n a cheerleader ponytail, her body bouncing like a gymnast as she set a hand against her size two waist. Gold lettering adorned her name tag, "Bobbi" spelled out asymmetrically.

"Actually, we're ready to order"

Surprise rocked warm in my chest as he spoke, his warm voice sharp, authority bitter in his tone.

"We will have the roasted duck with raspberry glaze, house salad and caesar dressing."

I hate duck

"Actua-"

His gaze shot to fix on me, pinning me again with his smoldering intensity.

"That will be all, Bobbi" A sneer dropped off each syllable, coated with sugar.

"Yes, Sir" her response was biting, the air around the table dropping two degrees as he watched her leave.

"I'm not partial to duck" It fell out of my mouth, though he ought to know at some point. HIs face contorted, and my blood curdled at the sight.

Suddenly wiped of any emotion, he became blank. Reaching across the table again he grabbed my hand before I could move back, his actions softly quick, like a snake striking. A syrupy smile lit his chiseled features, my heart unwittingly beating faster, his eyes caressing mine as he rubbed his thumb on my palm.

"Well we won't order that next time"

My cheeks creaked as I plastered a hinged smile on my face, swinging on a pendulum flung by his rapid change in mood.

Maybe he's just nervous?

We stared at each other, quiet, until Bobbi came back with our plates. The rancid stench of duck wafted up my nose, and I fought to keep disgust off my face.

Scott dug in, chatting aimlessly about work as I shifted piles or meat around my plate.

Hannibal flitted softly into my mind, his hands running up my arms, lips on my neck. His hands sliding down my naked back, caressing my ass as his lips meet mine, his tongue stroking mine as his fingers slip inside of me

"Alana?" Scott's questioning tone was stony.

"Yes, Scott?"

I felt a furious heat rush into my cheeks as I struggled to banish the fantasy from my mind.

"Your mouth as hanging open... and you were blushing" His tone held ice as he shifted the last bit of duck around his plate.

"Sorry, I um, I got lost in a thought" He snorted, seemingly unconvinced.

Flagging down Bobbi, he quickly paid with a wad of cash thicker than my wrist. I looked at my untouched food, heat flooding my spine.

Scott grabbed mr arm, leading me out of the restaurant. he let go when we reached the outside, taking his keys from the valet with a smile.

"Alana?"

I was wary, my arm bearing the first signs of a bruise.

"Where would you like to go for dessert?" The question stuck me with the sweet warmth of surprise. Maybe he was just nervous

"There's an ice cream place down the street that is open all night?" I suggested, my voice frail even to my own ears.

He smiled brightly, the light back in his eyes.

"Get in and we'll go"


	10. I Just Can't Help Falling in Love With You

A Week Later...

Silence framed the room, dust motes glimmering a golden window, illuminated by the last of the sunset. The quiet ticking of the clock in the dining room brought the only echoes of sound into the stillness of the kitchen, the pristine stillness cold and comforting. My hands stray from tying my apron, a perfect bow framing my back. Cracking my knuckles, I adjusted the placing of a stereo sitting on the counter. It looked old and out of place, a thirty dollar stereo sitting dumpily on thousand dollar granite countertops. A smile crept onto my cheeks as I stared at it, marinating for a moment in the silence before adjusting the stereo and hitting play. Music began to pour around the silence, warming the cold corners of the kitchen. Mozart's "Queen of the Night" echoed around my kitchen as I began adjusting buttons on the stove, preheating the oven before reaching into the fridge, plucking out a perfect lung. Alana was stopping by tonight, to speak to me about Will, and having dinner prepared for her will increase the chances of her staying over.

The doorbell rang as I pulled the filets out of the oven, leaving them to cool as I answered the door, I left the apron on, consciously, hoping it would invite her to take it off of me. -And then I could take everything off of her, those fanciful little wrap dresses she wears are so tantalizing, hugging her curves. I could slip it off of her, watch her moan and squirm as I take my time, touching every bit of her skin as I slide it down her body, only to pick her up and lay her on the table, kissing my way down her body until I could make her scream when my mouth met her- -

"Hannibal?" Alana sounded worried, her hand pounding anxiously on my door. Worried, I flung it open, now hoping my apron would cover my aching need. She was pale, shaking, her blue eyes wide and tear filled.

"Alana, what is it?" She stepped inside, her chin trembling. I stepped to meet her, a thumb tracing her trembling chin..

"What is it, my dear?" I kept my voice low, as not to scare her, though with our proximity her heat was pressing against my cock, infusing my voice with a raspy need I didn't know I possessed.

She gasped slightly, lips darting open, only to close suddenly as she wrapped her arms around me.

"Abigail is dead" It came out in a sob, her hands hugging my shoulders, breasts pressed against my chest. Ice poured through my veins, dampening my erotic fantasies.

"I'm so sorry Alana, would you like a glass of water, maybe beer, something to calm you down?" She stepped back her heels clicking on my floor.

It was then I took her in, red fabric plunging low, clinging to her hips, hair pinned up, heels, mascara running black lines down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I can't... I-I'm headed to meet Scott for dinner... I just thought you should know" Her voice cracked as blood boiled in my stomach.

Pulling off my apron, I wiped the makeup off her cheeks, leaning in close to inspect my work, she was perfect, a beautiful work of art.

"Alana, why don't you stay here for a bit, I'm sure Scott will understand, this is a big loss for the both of us..."

She lent me a small smile as more tears climbed down her cheeks.

"I can't, he um, he cooked for me" -"and he gets pissed when I say no" was left unsaid- Rage clawed at my muscles, threatening to make me keep her here, keep my pet protected.

Unable to resist I leaned down, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, wrapping my body up in hers, watching her pupils widen as I pulled her in close, lowering my lips her hers as my hands explored her body, grabbing at her ass and tugging her hair out of its updo, marking her as mine. She gasped, her hands wrapping around my neck, rubbing a leg up mine, so I could grab her thigh and slam her against the wall, her legs wrapped around me as I rubbed my erection ladden jeans against the thin lace of her panties as i explored her mouth, until she was moaning my name into my mouth, hands fisted in my hair. I could feel her abdomen tightening as I continued my strokes, slowing down as she writhed against me, her body begging for release. Smiling, I let her go, forcing myself to take a step back, wanting to devour her as she slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. Her hair fell in curled strands against her shoulders, her lips swollen from my onslaught. She bit a lip as she straightened, making a soft noise as her panties and dress positioned against her body.

"Have a nice dinner." It came out colder than expected as I stalked back into the kitchen, glaring at my now cold dinner.

"Hannibal" Her voice caught, her hands trembling on the doorframe as she stood in the entryway to the kitchen.

Her chin trembled.

"Will puked up her ear, that's how we know she's dead, he's in custody."

Satisfaction felt warm in my bones as a perfectly planned set of events fell into place. Earlier than expected, but well worth the surprise. My cock ached at the thought of my suprise, still standing, shaking, in my kitchen.

Determination crossed her face, anger flitting her eyes. She crossed the room quickly pushing me against the wall, her hands on my chest.

"Abigail died, Will puked up an ear and you can't let me come?" She was furious, her voice hard and angry. A chuckle burst out of my throat, surprise coating my untamable hunger for her, roaring after her speech.

I spun her slamming her against the island, her mouth opening in pain as I slammed my mouth onto hers.

I kissed and bit my way up to her ear.

"Talk naughty to me, Dr. Bloom, and I will make you come until you beg me to stop because you cannot handle another. I will watch your eyes widen and stomach quivver until you scream my name, until your throat is raw and your insides pound." The hand I had squeezing her pantied could feel her get wetter as I spoke, her moan making my cock beg for her. But not now, she was Scott's now. -Though she did ask-

Bending her over the island, I wrapped a hand around her clothed chest, tugging her dress down to reveal a lacy black bra, which unclipped, her eyes widening as I lowered my teeth to her nipple, tugging it gently until she moaned my name, her hands grabbing fists of my hair. -oh no, not until I let you, my pet."

I stepped back, leaning down to kiss her other nipple as I slipped a finger inside of her, my thumb brushing her clit.

"Hannibal!" it was a scream, her hands yanking at my hair, as she wiggled against my hand, her wet heat making me hungry for a taste of her. I kissed my way down her clothed stomach, yanking her dress up until I could kiss the taut skin under her belly button. Her moan made me hurt, my cock jumping in my pants as I began to move my thumb, sliding another finger inside of her as the muscles under my lips began to squirm, and her moans became louder and longer, and the wetness coating my hands soaked my hand, her warm muscles trembling around my fingers. I coaxed every bit of squirming, screaming orgasm out of her before yanking her panties back into place and pulling her off the counter, her face still pink as flushed.

"I will see what I can do for Will, but it looks like his empathy disorder has led him down the wrong path, but you have a dinner to get to."  
She sighed, as if she was just remembering. She turned to leave, her ass staring at me as she swayed from the room, her eyes still sad about Will as she turned to look at me in the kitchen doorway.

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter" I smiled at the double meaning, using the counter to hide the tent in my jeans.

I heard the front door slam as she left, and I quickly tossed the ruin of Abigail's lungs into my garbage. Stomping my way into a very cold shower, a shock hit my body as the cold bite of an awful realisation hit me.


	11. A Dark Love Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic Violence, abuse.

Alanna rested a trembling hand on the wheel of her car, running her tongue over her bottom lip, the taste of Hannibal clinging to her mouth, his scent wrapped tight around her clothes. The sharp sound of a horn woke her from her reprieve, and she began to tremble as she yanked her car back into her own lane. Her body still spun from his touch, her breathing still frantic in her lungs as she remembered the look on his face when she'd taunted him for not letting her finish. Shaking her head, dark curls falling around her shoulders, she returned her thoughts to Scott, who had been nothing but perfect for the last few weeks, not pushing her, taking it slow, his mouth soft on hers when he kissed her goodnight. His voice still made her needy, and tonight would be the night. Or it was going to be. The night he invited her upstairs, but now her twisted panties and sticky thighs meant she was going to have to wait. It took twenty minutes to get to Scott's from Hannibal's, and as she pulled into the drive, she sat for a moment, car off, lights dimming, the sickening realization that she would have to choose swimming in her gut like a knife.

Sighing, she put her keys in her purse and got out, her hands shaking as she knocked on his front door. He opened it in slacks and a polo, his hair slicked back, eyes simmering as they traveled slowly down her body. Heat flared in her spine as his eyes locked on hers.

"Come in"

He took her hand as she walked in, pushing her up against the wall, palms moving to her hips. Her back hit the wood paneling, hard.

"So nice of you to finally show up" His voice bit into her skin, sending goose bumps down her arms.

"S-sorry"

"You'd better be" His never moved his body pressing hers up against the wall, hands on her hips gripping to the point of pain.

"Scott!"

Eyes wide and panicked, the scent of fear curled around the room, her bitten to the quick nails harmless as she clawed at his biceps. His hand moved from her hip to her throat, pressing her into the wall.

Gasping for breath, she kicked at his shins, her heel catching in the soft fabric of his pants. A dark smile pulled at his mouth, his eyes cold and inhuman as he watched her face darken, her mouth a perfect O as she gasped for air. He reached his other hand up her thigh, sliding her dress up with his fingers.

"I've been waiting for tonight Alana" His voice was soft, a hidden poison rolling off his tongue as he whispered in her ear, kissing it as he loosened the hand around her neck.

His face clenched as he reached the sticky part of her thighs.

Ice rolled down Alana's spine as he drew back from her, his hand once again tightening around her neck.

"Who is he, Alana?" His voice was stone as the words fell off his tongue, sharp as knives in her ears.

"Who IS HE" His soft rage boiled into fury, his voice a scream as he threw her onto the ground, his shoe connecting sharply with her ribs.

Damn, I knew I should never trust someone who wore shoes in their own house.

The thought brought a bubble of liquid laughter to her lips, her laughter tasted of coins, bloody. Alana lost her breath as she heard something crack inside her, hot shards of pain filling her ribs. Darkness swam in her head, already fuzzy, it threatened to overcome her. His shape crouched next to her, his shadow huge in her dwindling vision.

CRACK. Her face on fire, she rolled away from the pain, her hands cupping her throbbing cheek, the warmth of blood filling her palm. His ring had marked her face.

"Please" The word left her lips like a last prayer, soft and breathless, the pain of it burning in her lungs, the taste of blood warm on her lips.

His laugh was like an anvil on her chest, her bones aching from it.

"Please?" His hands stroked her face, smearing the blood on her cheek.

"That's what all of you say, isn't it, You lie, cheat, sin and then beg forgiveness. Not today Alana Bloom." He leaned in, his lips hot against her ear.

"Say goodbye Alana Bloom" She could feel his smile against her ear, his voice the softest of whispers as he described exactly how he'd kill her, just like all the others before her.

Wow I have awful taste in men.

Another laugh bubbled in her throat as she realized how sad of a last thought that would be. The darkness pulled at her, waves lapping the pain away. A light flashed as she was pulled under, Scott's shadow jumping away from her as someone else stomped in. The shadows struggled, pulling at one another, throwing each other alone until one prevailed, standing darkly over the other, the one on the ground bent at an odd angle, his head meeting her eyes, though it was all so fuzzy, she couldn't tell who it was.

The other shadow knelt by her, brushing the hair out of her face, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"It will all be okay, my pet."

Hannibal's voice carried her softly into the darkness, her fear slipping away as it overcame her.


	12. For Everything A Reason

~ Earlier~

My heart slamming, I swung myself into the front seat, throwing the car into gear and squealing out of my driveway. The bitter smell of anger swam on the air, tingling in my nose as I broke every speed limit on the way to Scott's house. The snakes coiling in my ribcage made me glad I'd looked up his address. The bones of my knuckles strained against my skin as I drove, rage boiling in my lungs, swimming red and hot across my eyes. My gut coiled as I wove in and out of lanes, something felt wrong, a hard pang of fear curling below my stomach as I drove.

A scream broke my focus on the road, metal clawing against metal and the cars in front of me collided and spun, blocking the road. One burst into flame as I reversed, ignoring the still figure flung into the street in front of me. Blood coated one of the windshields, a mother screaming for her child in the front seat. I felt the car lurch as I slammed on the gas, weaving through slowing cars and into a detour route. Snapshots of Alana with him burned behind my eyes, the acrid stench of vile thoughts always oozed off of his skin like slime, swimming down the back of my throat. My kind could always pinpoint one another, his gaze and rigid spine holding echoes of screams and pain, and it rolled off of him, burning those around him. They could never see it, instead offering themselves like lambs to the slaughter, lining up to fall into his deep eyes, unaware they will drown in him.

Dark trees whooshed past my windows as I drove, the pinching sting of something gone horribly wrong settling low in my gut.

The thought of him with my Alana, his hands on her, rubbing his stench on her skin, hurting her, made my spine burn in my back, my ribs heavy in my chest as I floored the accelerator. His house burst into view, set away from other houses, the neatly landscaped yard and cozy feeling of the home belying none of the vile monster that lived within its walls. I shut the engine off at the beginning of the driveway, slinking out of car, watching the dark windows for any movement. The muffled sound of a struggle was audible from just a foot in front of the door. Fire and ice fought for dominance in my chest, burning and cold up and down my spine, ice clasping at my heart, only to be chased away by a burning pain.

Fire crawled up my leg as I kicked in the door. Standing in the doorway, I could see Alana, hardly conscious as Scoot loomed over her, poised to strike. The light from the porch lamp filtered in behind me, reflecting in his eyes as he stared up at me. Slowly he stood, clutching a knife in his hand.

"Dr. Lecter, what a surprise" The flat darkness of his voice belied no actual surprise, and he slunk closer to me with every word, his unblinking eyes examining me up and down, calculating. My eyes swam around the room, examining for weapons, watching Alana's breathing slow. Thinking my attention had fallen from him, Scott swung. I grabbed his fist in my hand, spinning his arm. His wrist broke with a crunch, his roar burning in my ears. Taking an opportunity, I slammed my foot into his groin, sending him flying against the wall. He bent in half, cupping his arm.

Breath came heavy in my lungs, my heart speeding up as I watched Alana's breathing slow even further. He slammed into me as I watched her, knocking me against a table, my head swung into a mirror, the glass cracking as I slammed into it. My vision blurred as I grabbed a shard of glass, slamming it into his chest.

His laugh was wet, bloody.

"You can't kill evil Lecter, didn't you know?" He yanked the glass out of his chest, his shirt soaking in blood. Teetering, he got closer to me. His face an inch from mine, he locked eyes with me.

"People like you and me Lecter, we're immortal" His last word spit blood on my face. I put my hand on his neck, my other hand touching his cheek.

"No one is immortal"

His neck made a heavy cracking noise as it snapped.

Alana.

She was slipping away as I reached her. Bloody hair covered her face, wet as I brushed it away. Half her face obscured by blood, she was angelic, her lips parted slightly.

"It will be okay my pet." She hardly moved as I felt down her body, checking for broken bones.

My phone was cold in my hand as I dialed Jack. It went to voicemail the first time, his gruff voice asking me to leave a detailed message at the beep. The second time he answered , his gruff voice softened by sleep.

"What is it Lecter"

"Scott Harvey is dead. He almost killed Alana, but I got here in time. Send an ambulance and the medical examiner."

I could hear him sit up, and his voice was tight when he answered.

"Is she okay? I need an address for your help"

"She has a few broken ribs and some bruising, however I think she will recover. The address is 7786 N Oaksdale ct, if I remember it correctly. Hurry."

I pulled her head into my lap, now sure she had no neck injuries.

She remained unconscious until they rolled her into to ambulance.

"Hannibal" Her voice was weak as she spoke.

"I'm right here Alana." I picked up her hand, lacing her fingers with my own.

"Don't leave me" Her heart monitor picked up, the paramedic shooting me a look, glancing at the blood covering my shirt, I could feel more on my head where it had hit the mirror.

"I will never leave you Alana"

She relaxed again, losing consciousness as we began to drive.


	13. Wish You Were Here

"We found evidence of at least eight murdered women in his home."

Jack Crawford leaned against the pale green of the hospital wall, running a hand over his hair.

"Forensics is saying at least one of his victims was Kanika Boswell."

A smile tugged at my cheeks, the sweet feeling of victory tugging at my gut. Keeping my voice low so Alana wouldn't hear, I leaned in, widening my eyes in mock surprise.

"Did they find any bodies?"

Jack sighed, crossing his arms.

"No. It's beginning to look like he-"

Jack grimaced, looking at the ground before meeting my eyes.

"He sold the parts."

Rage coiled in my spine at the thought of him with my Alana. Cutting her, maiming a body that I had laid eyes and hands on, that I had imagined running my hands over. Imagining him touching her, hurting her, selling her parts to people who wouldn't know their worth. My hands tingled, aching to wrap themselves around his neck, even if it held no breath to stop.

"Alana can not know. She is under enough stress as it is."

Jack sunk inwards, tightening his arms.

"She would want to know"

Of course she would; the woman would want to know everything, even if it destroys her in the process. I have to censor her world, I will not have her destroyed by someone who does not even know the worth of the world he is crushing, who underestimates the lengths to which I have gone to watch her world begin to fall around me. I will be the center of her world, I will control how she loves. I will not let anything hurt her unless I will it

"She would know everything if she could Jack. This would destroy her."

Sighing, Jack lowered his voice even further, waiting for a nurse to pass us before continuing.

"She is stronger than you know, Hannibal"  
A doctor exited Alana's room, scribbling on a notepad.

"Any news, Doctor?"

He smiled at me, his flat eyes crinkling, as if to reassure me that though he had a million other patients and things to worry about, his full attention was on me.

"She's stable, and awake. You can see her if you'd like." He made a hasty retreat, catching the heat buried behind my eyes at the thought of Alana being less than stable.

I opened the door slowly, my muscles aching to fling it open and run inside.

She looked like they had doped her up on pain meds, her eyes lidded and glassy. Her smile was the same, and it spread from cheek to cheek when she noticed me standing in the doorway.

"Hannibal" Her voice crinkled, groggy. Though I could hear the upswing of excitement in the word.  
"How are you feeling, Alana?"

She flashed me another smile, rolling towards the side of the bed where I had moved to sit.

"Drugged and stiff"

My eyebrows jumped as a slight smile crashed across my face before I could stop it.

Brushing hair off her cheek, my lips met her forehead as I tucked the strand behind her ear. Her heart monitor began to beep faster, the nurse on the other side of the bed glaring at me. A pink blush spread across her cheeks as Jack walked in on the three of us, her with her heart pounding, my lips pressed to her face, the nurse still glaring at my back.

"How are you feeling?" Jack sat in a chair near the end of the bed, eyeing the two of us.

"I'm okay" I moved to sit in the chair next to me, Alana wrapping her cool fingers through mine.

Jack fixed his eyes on our hands, resting on the pale blue of the hospital blanket. His eyes traveled to her face, his brows tightening as he took stock of her injuries. They were darker today, bruises forming on her face and arms where he had grabbed her.

Alana cringed as his eyes traveled over her injuries.

"I sure can pick em'" Her joke fell flat when she winced, her hand tearing out of mine to rest on her broken ribs.

Fire burned in my chest as I watched her breathe through the pain, her chest rising and falling, slower and slower. Her eyes slipped shut, heart monitor steadying.

"We should let her sleep" The nurse, once irritated, looked much more relaxed now that her vitals had steadied and she was resting.

"The intake staff couldn't find any next of kin to call, perhaps one of you could help us fill out her paperwork?"

Glancing at the clock on the wall, a chill rolled down my back.

"I apologize, I have an appointment I cannot arrive late for."

Jack glanced at me leaning against the counter of the nurses station.

"I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you Jack."

He leaned in, putting a hand on my shoulder. His eyes fixed on mine, he lowered his voice.

"Would you like me to tell her what happened? She will want to be debriefed. Eventually she will find out you killed Scott."

Before I could answer, the doctor we had met earlier rounded the corner, clutching a clip board.

"I was just looking for the two of you; I need to contact Alana's next of kin, and get her insurance information before you leave, we didn't want to ask you last night, however we will need her to stay a few days and-"

His voice got higher as he ran out of air. He seemed to deflate when I put up a hand to stop him.

"Doctor I assure you, she will heal much faster in a more comfortable environment. I will take charge of her until she recovers, I do have a medical degree and I assure you she will be quite safe with me."

Jack inhaled in surprise, though he nodded in agreement when the Doctor looked to him.

"Very well, as soon as she can remain stable for twelve hours I will release her into your care."

He smelled of putrid fear and exhaustion, his youth only enhanced my his short hair and nervous temperament.

Smiling, I turned to leave, nearly missing the kick the nurse threw at the doctors shins, presumably for his eagerness to release her to me. To be fair, I had spent the night pacing their lobby, growling at orderlies who wouldn't let me into the ICU.

I would have killed them all to keep her safe.


	14. Hurt

He has his hands around her throat, his knee on her chest, pressing. The air left her lungs in a gasp, turning into a soundless scream when she couldn’t inhale. Someone started to scream as she began to die, the dark swarming in around her. His shoulders tensed as her struggles calmed, though the screams raged on, even as he carried picked her up , his shirt bunching and sagging as he accommodated the dead weight. It only took him a moment to bring her where he wanted her, a hidden room behind a wall panel, the walls swarmed red and black dripping with the dark stains of his past. The screaming stopped as he approached a large table, shrouded in darkness. A single bulb hung above it, dark. “here you are, my pet” his voice slithered wrapping around the room like oil, sliding down the walls echoing off the dark corners of the space. His breathing became labored as he settled her into a large arm chair, smoothing her hair back from her face, the tips of his fingers brushing her lips, her cheeks and her eyes coming to rest around the livid bruise on her neck. “A shame to ruin such a beautiful thing.” He leaned to kiss the bruise, his hands swimming near the edge of her dress. “Not yet- You’re not ready yet, not perfect” He slid around her, grasping in the dark. A black tube emerged, lipstick as red as a dragons wing sliding as he twisted. “I need light” the mumble barely left his lips as he concentrated on hers. The screams pierced the room as he yanked the chain, the light of the bulb illuminating nine other chairs at the table, all filled with rotting bodies, except one. Lipstick painted the blue stiffness of the corpses, big exaggerated smiles that rose from cheek to cheek. Turning to her, Scott smiled “do you like my collection?”  
“Alana!” I came awake like being pulled out of water, pain rocketing over my muscles, twisting and turning in my veins like fire. It hit its peak in my ribs and throat, burning and clawing at me until it was all I could do to not scream.   
“You were screaming in your sleep, pet”   
Ice jerked in my head as the nickname sent chills through my skin.   
“Don’t” My voice hurt, sounding as raspy as it felt. Closing my eyes, I felt tears rise in my chest, my breathing hard against my lungs.   
“Don’t call me that, please”  
“I’m sorry” he kissed my forehead as he said it, running his thumb over the tears on my cheek.   
I turned to hide my tears and he drew my face back to his.   
“Don’t hide from me Alana, you have nothing to fear from me”   
He slid down, pulling my head onto his chest so I could feel his heart beating. Thump thump, thump thump. So steady, so close. I could feel it pulling at my my consciousness, drawing me under the dark wave that called for me to sleep.   
“I’m scared” The whisper drew a faster beat from the heart I rested on, thump thump thump, thump thump.   
“You have nothing to fear now.”  
I think I do -   
His face as he crashed through Scott flitted on the outskirts of my mind, pulled from the black shapes I’d thought I’d seen. I tried to pull up, pull away until I knew who and what caused the fear to spin webs in my stomach. But the thump thumping remained steady and pulled me under, his hands playing with my hair as I fell asleep against his chest. - Maybe I don’t-   
_________________________________________________________________________  
She came awake like fire through curtains, one minute she was still, quiet, untouched and the next a scream tore through the air and ripped her out of sleep, up against the headboard her arms wrapped around her, holding herself in, staring around the room like the walls were closing in.   
“Alana” Her breathing slowed as she focused on me. Leaning on the bed, I wrapped my hands around her face, turning her eyes to meet mine. Silence fell softly on her as I stared into the fear clouding her eyes. She softened as time passed the lines in her brow smoothing, her lips curling up as my thumbs brushed across them. Her tongue darted between the softness of her lips, catching the pad of my thumb, sending fire burning slowly down my back, curling in my groin.   
“Alana” it came out lower than I expected, curling around my tongue and sliding out from between my lips as a growl.   
A smile answered my plea.   
“Thank you Hannibal” Though her mouth in my hand sent shivers down my spine, the husky gratitude in her voice off set the moment, sending the lust spiraling into my groin even deeper, her voice making my heart beat faster.  
“You owe me no thanks” I brushed my lips across her forehead as I said it, her head resting against the hollow in my throat.   
“You saved my life” It came out a murmur, her hand playing lightly with the sleeve of my shirt.   
And now she owed me hers - A smile graced my lips at the thought.   
“ You owe me nothing” My chin settled in her hair as I spoke, the scent of her infusing my senses.   
“He killed that girl.”   
“The police said they found more bodies in his home”  
“And the one in her home, Kanika, who was missing organs, he killed her”  
My chest tightened, red flaring behind my eyes as another man got credit for my work.   
“Why do you think that” Ice and fire raged in my muscles as I fought to calm my muscles enough to stroke her face without hurting her.   
“I just know.” The fire began to cool as she spoke, as it became clear that there was no evidence.   
As suddenly as the silence had settled, it was shattered by a pounding on the door, sending Alana out of my arms into a half crouch on the bed, her face tightening as her injuries responded to the ferocity of her movement.   
____________________________________________________________________________  
He moved like a cat, quick and smooth, sliding himself off of the bed and slinking towards the door. His face stern, he shut the door behind him as he moved to answer the knocking.   
____________________________________________________________________________   
Irritation fell hot on my chest as he neared the front entrance, my hands clenching tight on my palms as I moved to swing the door open. Fire battled humor in my chest as an open-mouthed Jack Crawford again stood in my doorway.   
“He’s out. He’s out and he wants to see her.”   
“Will is out? How? All evidence pointed to him as her killer.”   
“He blames you.” --Smart man--   
“It is a common occurrence in a therapy situation for a patient to project their own image onto that of their doctor. It was a matter of time before Will turned to me for blame.   
“He wants Alana out of your care.”   
Rage billowed around my vision the world swimming in red and black.   
“She’s mine.”  
Jack’s face tightened, as he suddenly began searching the house with his eyes.  
“I feel responsible for allowing her to be in that situation, her care lies in my hands. Nothing Will Graham can do will pull her from me.”  
“I’m sure you two can work it out in therapy.”   
A chuckle bubbled under the fire in my gut.   
“I’m sure we will.”


End file.
